


Myf's Christmas

by AwatereJones



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Christmas Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9010687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwatereJones/pseuds/AwatereJones
Summary: Ever wondered what Myfanwy thinks about at Christmas?  
 
Me too.





	1. Chapter 1

Christmas is the pits. That's right, you heard me.

Worst time of the year.

If you can just hold on for a minute I'll tell you why. The more you hear me out then you'll realize that I'm right.

To begin with, what's the big deal about Christmas? Everybody always gets so stressed out. It's supposed to be a time for fun and laughter and creating lasting memories with family and friends. After that comes peace and harmony, love and understanding and all of that other nonsense. Naturally, the boatloads of presents are what matter the most. But I just don't get it.

Maybe it's because I'm a Pteranodon.

If it were up to me we'd charge ahead from Thanksgiving and blaze into New Year's Day and leave December choking in the dust.

There's just too much going on and not enough time left for the meaningful things, like lying around and doing nothing.

It all starts at Halloween.

Some of the costumes are a bit scary for me, but the candy part is definitely the highlight. I try my damndest to run off as many of the kids as possible by screaming as loud as I can, but I always wind up getting put in that miserable nest with the door shut.

Treated like an outcast in my own house, rather rude if you ask me.

My game plan each year is to terrorize the kids so they high tail it away from the bowl of candy before they reach the front door to leave.

It's a simple strategy, less kids means more candy for me.

Somehow, it never seems to work.

But enough Halloween talk, I'm here to whine about the holiday season, specifically Christmas Day.

I can deal with November.

Actually, the first two weeks of the month can be quite gorgeous here in Wales with bright and warm afternoons livening up the time I get to go out and play in the clouds.

There are always plenty of sheep to eat.

A word of caution though if you ever get hungry: brown sheeps just aren't nearly as tasty as the white ones.

Once Thanksgiving week rolls around the weather starts to turn and sometimes it can get downright cold. That's also when the busy season starts and my attitude heads south along with the birds.

Thanksgiving Day can be a good or bad day, it all depends if there's anyone here at the aviary.

If the family gets invited to head over to pig out at one of the human boxes they call restaurants, then I'm screwed. No gourmet meal with the trimmings for me, just the same old drab food.

But when they stay here and fire up a feast there's plenty to chow down on. My boy usually cooks me two big ones, one still hot. I sleep enough as it is, but wow, that tryptophan in the turkey knocks me out even twice as long.

The more I think about it, I'm done after dinner until Black Friday morning.

So how can I be a smart enough to know about something like Black Friday?

It all comes down to one thing - cable TV, the Wikipedia of human weirdness.

Ask me anything about news, sports, fashion, weather, celebrity gossip, World War II history. Oh, I can't leave out food. Yep, I've got all the answers to everything. If all you only did when you're awake is sit in front of the television, walk around the nest, fly in the clouds and, of course, eat, you'd have plenty of time for home schooling. I can tell you whatever you need to know. Of course I'm speaking hypothetically; I can't give you any of the answers because I can't talk. You'll just have to go along with me on this. If you're wondering how I'm able to sound so educated, you would be too if you spent countless hours watching reality television, the backbone of higher learning.

Some of us winged things are actually smarter than we seem and some of us are dumber than we look.

Now that I've got all of that out of the way I can go into my tirade about Christmas Day. And, by the way, since I'm airing my grievances I should add that Christmas Eve isn't much better.

The season itself isn't so bad, it's those two days that really chap my ass. I know what I said before about doing away with the whole month of December, but since this is my story I should have the right to mangle it if I want to.

So, to start at the beginning, I live with the Torchwood Team. For security reasons, I can't reveal the name of the town. That's not really true; I just said that to make you think we're more important than we really are.

JAck and Ianto run the place.

Owen's the oldest chick, he's supposed to be their healer or something and goes to Moron State. Not the fastest piston in the engine, but he treats me well.

Toshiko is calmer and less inclined to make shrill shrieking noises than Owen usually does and there's more hope for her.

She's quite thin and attractive and does something involving a box or a wriggly wire thing, I'm not sure which.

Gwen has only been here a couple of years and I am still not sure about her as Ianto seems nervous. I think we adopted her or something, just a bit late.

I guess in adult speak she was a 'mistake', if you know what I mean. Jack likes to collect things and put her in hispocket. Ianto is still trying to work out how to persuade him to put her back where he got her but I can already ee his pouting means he wants to keep her.

Well, she did follow him home I suppose.

Ianto will give in.

He has a thing for lost waifs too. You see he found me as young one in an empty box, one of their box ones over at the docks, barely a mile from here.

He said I was special and stood out from the crowd. He told me I was beautiful. I knew in that moment he was going to keep me.

I'm lucky to have such a good brood to live with. Of course, there are areas of improvement I've identified for each of them, but since I can't write or talk, the odds of getting my recommended changes implemented are nonexistent.

For me, as long as I don't shit on the boxes they sit at I'm meeting standards.

They call me Myfanwy, well Ianto named me and it is a sweet name and I don't think my name can be spoken in their primitive tongue.

I enjoy antiquing, reading romance novels and playing my cherished violin.

Not really, my day primarily consists of flying around in circles.

That's all you need to know about us for now.

I have to return to focus on my outrage about Christmas. The curtain for the first act of the circus always rises when Owen valiantly tries to put up the twinkly lights over Thanksgiving weekend.

Two years ago, he connected all of the cords together, plugged them into one socket and proceeded to blow out sixty dollars worth of decorations. He had to go back to the store and buy several new sets of lights and do it all over again.

Other people are on the lookout for bargain discount prices while Owen manages to double the cost of his purchases. Edison would have been proud.

Another blunder takes place each year when the wreath is mounted on the Tourist Office door.

Owen always forgets to make sure it's securely attached to the hook. The first time a visitor doesn't ring the doorbell and tries to knock, the wreath goes crashing down onto the front porch cement floor. At this point, it looks like it's been put through a paper shredder.

After she starts feeling sorry for the little troll Tosh is hard at work getting all of the indoor decorations in place. I've lost track of the number of boxes she brings out of the crawl space. Of course, I can't count so that could be part of the problem.

She seems to really enjoy finding just the right place in every room for the hand crafted ornaments she's collected through the years. By Sunday afternoon, everyone has chipped in to trim the artificial tree and Owen and Gwen have been shoved out the door and are headed back to hunt the leather faced ones, only to return for the coffee later.

Before you know it, Christmas Eve will be here and then the problems begin for me.

This year, I won't let it happen yet again.

This year, I'm out for revenge!


	2. Christmas Eve

"Owen, where have you been? You know we have to get the hub ready. It's nearly six o'clock and you're just walking in the door! Jack and I would like a few minutes to relax tonight too. Get a move on it. I need you to empty out the inbox of reports to finish without stamping every single one with that stupid CLOSED stamp. And whatever presents you bought need to be put underneath the tree."

"Chill Jack. What's there to eat for dinner?" Owen looks like he's been rolling in mud for several hours. The dirt marks from his shoes should match up well on the light green mat.

"It's on the meeting room table. We've got Chinese from Fu Wong's and pizza from The Italian Cafe. It's still warm, they both delivered a short time ago. Wash your hands before you touch the food. We'd prefer not to die from food poisoning until after the holidays." Ianto's dry Welsh tones waft over from where he is standing behind Tosh working on a project with her.

In my brief life here, I've noticed on TV shows that Christmas Eve night is depicted as quiet and serene. Families gather around their festive and well trimmed tree to listen to songs of the season, a cup of eggnog in one hand along with a moist slice of pumpkin pie in the other while they cherish their time together and reminisce about holidays past.

Around here, every year, it's like they're in the middle of a tornado drill. I try to just stay out of the way because this is the point where it kicks in, they completely ignore me until the day after Christmas when half the presents under the tree get boxed up and returned in the mall for what they really want.

There won't be any 'Hey Myfanwy, let's take a fly' or friendly pats on the head or even just a smile. They'll walk around me and over me like I don't exist. I've done nothing to deserve it.

Filing a grievance with The Humane Society probably won't get me very far.

'Grin and bear it', isn't that the saying?

"Jack, can this be a present?" It looks like Gwen must be scrambling for last second gift ideas.

"No Gwen, a box of skittles doesn't count. Go ahead and put it back on the counter."Jack responded, "Ianto will kill you if you touch his candy."

Last year, Tosh helped Jack wrap up the TV remote as a present for his healer. It took Owen two hours to realize it was a gag.

Gwen means well, but being the new chick can bring it's challenges.

Like the time she tried to warm up slices of cold pizza in the microwave without a plate and Ianto caught her.

My family favourite, though, is Ianto by far. If I had to pick a nest partner, he would get the call every time. You can't go wrong with somebody that still believes in Santa.

"Did you talk to your fella yet Gwen? What time is he coming tomorrow? We're going to have to get it in gear when we get back from church." Jack was calling out from his office doorway and Gwen sighed.

"The usual, around Noon. He's been having some minor side effects from the new pie cart he's been stopping at … I'm not going into the gory details. All I should say is that I'm glad I picked up a can of air freshener at the grocery store. I'll leave it at that."

"You only got one? With Owen in the hub, you should have picked up a case. Buying in bulk puts a nice dent in the cost."

"Gwen why don't you go help Ianto take cups out of the dishwasher? Then we can watch 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' in a little bit." Jack said before disappearing back into his office and Ianto's scowl told Gwen that her help was definitely not needs.

_Jez-lousie you chip one damned tea cup._

Tosh and Gwen are helping Ianto put out cookies and milk for Santa before the team heads off to bed with the hub on stand-by mode.

Every year, Jack sits down about 11:30 and pigs out on the cookies. He always wolfs down the whole plate like it's the only meal he's had all day.

Then he pours the warm milk into the drain and belts back a couple of beers in its place. That's topped off by a shot of vodka to put him in the right mood to dream about sugar plum fairies.

Just like the way Santa does it.

This is what really grinds on me. Why can't I get a few cookie scraps? How come they always ignore me on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day? I know the saying isn't 'Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Pteranodons', but at least give me some love.

I've been getting squat for far too long.

It's time for me to rally the troops and prepare for combat. Alright, I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, but Dr. Phil says it's good to get your emotions out in the open.

The countdown to the showdown has begun.


	3. Christmas Morning

Ugh! I know that's not how you're supposed to greet Christmas morning.

My reaction should be to belt out 'Joy to the World' or some other holiday mumbo jumbo. But at 5AM, I've got nothing.

Ianto's up, and that means I am too. I've heard that a fresh pot of coffee works well to kick start things, but since neither of us has any idea if I like coffee and the last time I ate some coffee beans I shat all over the place, that option is off the table.

Tosh and Gwen are always good about clearing out an area right in front of the tree and stacking Santa's presents in the centre so Owen knows where to look and doesn't rip apart everyone else's gifts.

I have to give them their due for the way they plan ahead.

Santa Ianto always delivers quiet presents, its Jack and Owen who buy the noisy ones.

That way it bides time and paves the way for an extra hour or two of sleep.

Fortunately for them, as well as King Owen and Queen Gwen, it's been quiet so far this morning. Most families prefer to use an alarm clock to wake up.

Here at the hub, everyone greets the new day to the sound of Owen slamming shut a big metal drawer.

"Is it really necessary to be burning popcorn so early and today of all days? What are you doing in there? The whole hub is going to stink." Gwen isn't too thrilled with Owen's culinary efforts in the kitchen at seven in the morning.

"Now that we can rule out the possibility of Owen becoming a celebrity chef someday, let's start opening gifts. Before we know it, it'll be time to head out to church," Jack says. He looks nice wearing a thick blue robe. In my opinion, he's quite attractive, an older chick but definitely well preened.

Of course, I'm prejudiced since he and Ianto rescued me from that pit of a box place where I was being starved to death with only days to live. Well, actually, none of that's true.

Ianto had to put me on a diet when I first got here. I just said it to make him look good.

"This year, shopping was seriously smooth. I knocked out everybody's gifts between the grocery store and the gas station." Owen has a weird look on his face as he walks into the living room holding a glass in one hand and the gourmet popcorn in the other. "T-boy, this grape juice tastes strange."

"You got that from behind the large oatmeal can in the closet didn't you? That's prune juice for Rhys in case he wants it. Can't you read labels?" Ianto rolls his eyes without looking up.

I thought Christmas gift giving is supposed to be an orderly process. At least that's what I see on TV. As I've mentioned, it's my only window to the rest of the world. I was under the impression that each family member opens one present at a time while everyone else patiently sits and watches. The person who receives the gift then responds with a gut wrenching 'thank you' that brings a tear to the gift giver's eye.

Not in this nest. They all hover around the tree and wait for Jack to yell 'NOW'! Then, they all dive bomb into the pile and start grabbing for any box that comes close to having their name on it.

Tosh looks out for Ianto and hands him his presents first before she jumps in for battle. They all act like they just fell off the deck of the Titanic and are scrambling to find the last life preserver in a freezing ocean.

"What the hell is this?"Tosh is sighing as she opens her gift from Owen. He's not saying anything, he has a pained and confused look as he numbly stares at the 400-page biography of Lincoln that she has given him. He's wondering how a person can be so cruel to expect him to read in his free time I think.

The dust is beginning to settle, it looks like Ianto got noise cancelling headphones. I have no idea why he'd need those. I'm surprised he hasn't already put them on and started to wear them right away.

Jack got a custom made bobble head created from his likeness.

I guess they'll make just about anything. He's got a big noggin to begin with. The gift looks like a Mister Potato Head on a spring.

Gwen seems pleased with her classy looking jewellery box.

Now that he's recovered from the shock of the book, Owen has made a quick recovery and is admiring his newest and latest mind numbing video game.

I guess 'How to Improve Your IQ' was sold out.

Tosh is beaming with her sparkling necklace. Ianto steps up four times a year for her and spends money: Christmas, Valentine's, Mother's Day and her birthday.

Otherwise, he's so cheap he'd prefer to have the electricity cut off and just go with candle power at night. Owen always does well, he now has plenty of toys to break in the coming months. By May, he'll start badgering Ianto by asking how many more days until Santa returns.

"C'mere Fan." Jack is calling me over and I know what's coming next. It's now Year Three to have to wear the ugliest bobble hat on the planet. This thing defies description.

He starts pulling it over my head and I try to resist at first, but I know it's a losing battle so I give in. I'm not even sure it's been washed since I last wore it. It smells like BO.

Well, since it's my BO I probably shouldn't complain too much. For me, yet again, no gifts in sight, not even a refurbished sheep carcass.

I don't get squat.

This is also the first time anyone's paid any attention at all to me this morning.

Just wait and see.

May the crippling gusts of a mighty wind will befall this nest and scatter it into ten thousand pieces. No, not really. I'm just blowing off steam.

"All right, let's get a move on. We've got five minutes to get to the church and the service starts in ten. And I can't find my keys! Has anybody seen the keys?" Jack might seem frazzled now, but the fun won't really start until later on this afternoon.

"I've got 'em. Owen put them in the fridge. He thought it's the best place to keep keys safe so they don't get bent." Ianto has a fake smile on his face now, but he didn't seem too happy a few months ago when Owen put his wallet in the freezer over the Halloween weekend.

"We'll meet up when we get there. Ianto and I are driving separately," Owen says as he starts to put on his coat. I can never figure out his fashion style. I think the most appropriate way to describe it is 'Salvation Army casual'.

"Wait a minute Owen. Are you saying we're using three cars to take five people down the street? Where is your common sense? That's a ridiculous waste of gas!" If Ianto has a nervous breakdown right now it might impact the start time for dinner tonight.

"We can't agree on the radio station. Jack wants Christmas music. I need Power104 and you guys always have that 'All Wiggles' crap on for Owen. Only crazy people still listen to AM." Gwen snarled, "Besides, I'm meeting Rhys there."

"It's a Wiggles CD. It's not AM and we're not nuts. Now the two of you get in the car and let's go!" Owen huffed with an indignant look as his beloved Wiggles got bad mouthed.

The door slams behind Owen as he follows the others out to the car. Nobody remembered to say goodbye to me. So, here I am alone for the next hour. It gives me enough time to sniff the wrapping paper, take a well earned nap and begin to plot my revenge in front of the whole group at dinner.

I will not be marginalized. I am Myfanwy, hear me roar. Or, at least hear me squawk

moderately loud.


	4. Christmas Afternoon

Didn't I say earlier that Christmas Day is supposed to be devoted to peace, love, harmony and understanding? Or should I have said laziness, drunkenness, indifference and slothfulness?

I can't seem to remember which is most appropriate, but I do know that a few people in the crowd that will be here for dinner would definitely qualify for the latter category.

They might even be considered Team Leaders.

With all that needs to be done to get things running smoothly, Ianto is the only one doing anything constructive right now. I guess this proves he's just happy when he's miserable.

Jack wasn't too thrilled when the gang got back from church. Turns out that Owen had burped quite loudly during the sermon.

Almost shook the walls.

The minister was cool about it and didn't get upset, he told the congregation that it must have been an angel yawning.

"Hey T-Boy, are you ready? Let's get to it." Owen's class act always starts out the same way, as soon as he sets foot in the hub, with a stunt for Ianto that is the envy of David Copperfield. He throws off his coat, drops it directly onto the carpet (no hanger required) and heads straight for the leather recliner. He plops into the chair and proceeds to slide up and down against the back of the seat. After three or four tries, the spark is lit and Owen peels off a loud fart sound that comes from the friction of his back against the leather.

"Yes! Good way to start Christmas off, huh?" Owen is pumping his fists into the air as if he's just won the lottery."

Ianto leans around the doorframe of the kitchen and gives him that 'decaf' stare that always wiped the grin off Owen's face.

Seating arrangements at dinner might result in a wider conflict needing UN intervention.

At least there's enough room in this nest for everyone to fit in.

They have their boxes they like to sit at and Jack the Coat has his own nest that he shares with Ianto, a lovely matched pair but they don't seem to have chick of their own so they seem to collect grown ones.

Also, Jack had a hole in his nest he likes to hide in sometimes. My guess is that he goes in there to pass gas or pick his nose. I know it's gross, but the truth can make us stronger and one day set us free.

"Gwen, why don't you come in here and help? I could use another set of hands." Finally, Ianto is willing to admit he can't do it all by himself and I am glad he chose to include Gwen instead of Tosh. I hope they can finally start grooming.

"Alright Ianto. What do you want me to do?" Gwen has been playing with Rhys and managed to keep the decibel level below the sound of a 747 taking off.

"You can start out by peeling the potatoes." They're both standing near the kitchen sink and out of earshot from the living room.

"Ugh! You know my talent stops at just pouring things. I'm not good at manual labour. And what do you mean by 'start out'. I can't be in the same standing position more than two minutes or I get dizzy and see flashes with stars bouncing around. Like in the cartoons." Gwen whines with horror as she realises that Ianto actually means it.

"How many people are in this nest right now young lady?"

"I don't know, it's Christmas. Don't make me use my brain."

"There's six of us and one person is doing all of the cooking. Don't you think I'm entitled to some help?"

"Yeah, I guess. What about Owen and Tosh? Shouldn't all they be in here? Seniority or whatever?"

"Very funny. That reminds me, before you begin with the potatoes I need you to take the frozen vegetables out of the freezer and put them on the counter."

"Ianto! How many vegetables are there? This freezer is jammed with stuff."

"Eight. There are also six desserts I'll need you to get ready later on."

"Have you lost your mind! Why so many?"

"I sent out questionnaires this year and for once everyone responded in a timely fashion."

"Hey Ianto, how about another round of beers in here? We're getting thirsty. And another plate of cookies too." Jack is bellowing from the meeting room. His butt has been welded to that chair for hours. I don't think he realizes that Ianto is right next to the knife block. If he keeps this obnoxious behaviour up he might be serving his head on a plate along with the turkey.

I have to say, even with a nest full of deadbeats, except for Ianto, there really is a nice cozy, quaint and festive atmosphere in the nest this afternoon.

We've got a tree with twinkling colourful lights while a glowing fireplace warms the room and laughter fills the air. As for the adorable pet Pteranodon, I'm still steamed that I'm merely an afterthought, if even that.

Give it a few hours and I'll give them a Christmas to remember.


	5. Christmas Dinner

"Okay, we're about ten minutes away before we sit down to eat. Now is the time if you need to wash up. You should probably let Jack go first since he'll need to hose down."

Jack can't even hear Ianto making the announcement from the other room. He's out cold in the recliner and snoring so loud that he could be mistaken for a ship's fog horn.

Owen and Gwen have been giggling nonstop.

"Ianto, do you want me to start bringing out the vegetables? It's getting pretty crowded on the counter with all of the food jammed in there." After two hours of helping Ianto, Gwen is busy in the kitchen and surprisingly still conscious and functioning.

"Yes dear, just make sure you wrap the dishes in tin foil so they don't cool down too quickly. We're going to need to get clever to make sure that everything fits on the table and there's still room to manoeuvre." Rhys answered for him as he kisses her cheek and starts trucking food as well.

"Oh no! Oh my god, I'm so sorry Ianto." The first vegetable dish Gwen brought out to the table has gone crashing onto the meeting room carpet.

"Whoa! Which one is it?" Owen jumps up from lying flat on the floor. He's been in a semi-comatose state for hours, ear plugs in, listening to music on his smart phone.

This is the most excited I've seen him since he found out that reruns of The Flintstones are being aired every day on cable.

"Could it be? Yes, it is! Broccoli kicks the bucket. A Christmas miracle. God bless us, every one." He's on his knees with his hands folded in prayer, looking up at the ceiling.

"Alright wise guy, help your teammate out and clean it up." Jack is not as amused.

It gets dark early this time of year. By five o'clock it's pitch black and the lights are on outside while the lights inside the nest are turned down. When I was much younger last year, I would try playing on the roof after the sun went down and I kept running head first into the venting ducts. If I remember right, it probably took about ten collisions before I figured out what was going on. Sometimes, repetition is not a good thing.

Maybe Owen and I really do share some of the same genes.

Six adults are crammed around the cherry wood meeting table that is heaving with food.

With plenty of food and drink by candlelight, I do have to admit this is a rather comfy atmosphere. I, on the other hand, still have not been included in the merriment one bit.

Ianto threw some slop into my dish a few minutes ago and just said 'here Myf' and kicked it to the corner of the walkway.

I can now say with confidence that I've been completely ignored yet again on Christmas.

Operation 'Let It Rip' is now a go.

After a lot of pushing and shoving and hands flying in each other's faces, it looks like everyone is finally settled in. Jack is holding a spoon playfully between his fingers and tapping his water glass for a moment of quiet, however hard that may be to accomplish. "I am very happy that you could all be here today to help us celebrate another Christmas. Let's all raise our glasses in appreciation and thanks for the good year of health and happiness we've had. And let's hope we're blessed with more of the same for the year ahead. Cheers!"

In his eagerness, and drunken state, Jack smashes his glass too hard up against Owen's and chips a big chunk off the top.

Water splashes over the tablecloth and into the cranberry sauce. A touching start to the meal.

"Dear, why don't you lead us with a prayer and then we can all dig in." Gwen looks like she's in desperate need of a spa weekend as she blows an errant hank of hair from her face while Ianto still looks pristine in his Christmas themed waistcoat.

Rhys looks more sombre than he has since he got here, he must take this stuff seriously. "Dear Lord, bless us on this joyous holiday. A day for greed, sitting on our asses and watching the crappy 'Only Fools and Horses Christmas Specials' on TV because there's nothing else on."

"OK, all right. That's enough! Thank you very much Rhys. Let's pass the food from left to right. Hope it tastes good!" Ianto says quickly before something else delays the dishing of the cooling meal.

"Everything looks delicious Yan." Jack smiles and Rhys hums happily as he gets some mash.

"We can move this bad boy over to my place pronto next year. How about it?" Rhys offers and Jack grins at him as Ianto freezes, mid scoop.

"Charming, simply charming. I know the crystalware you use to drink chocolate milk is priceless so we'll make sure we're on our best behaviour." Owen says in a high pitched voice, flapping a hand at the wrist.

I guess this is it, I really am going to be frozen out.

Year after year on Christmas and nothing.

I'm a hole in the wall, a needle in a haystack or whatever other cliché you want to come up with.

I have to put a stop to this and do it right now. Nations have been torn asunder and kings have been toppled for less. Well, that might be a bit melodramatic, but you know where I'm headed with this. Let's see who wants to pay attention now after I ruin their dinner.

Several well placed packages delivered onto the carpet right in front of the table should send the message home loud and clear. I think you get my drift. I've never honked and made a deposit at the same time, but I should be able to pull it off. I'm right where they can see me and I'm locked and loaded.

OK, the day of reckoning has finally arrived.

Ten, nine, eight...

Wait a minute, look at them. Smiling and laughing. Just having a wonderful time, enjoying themselves to the fullest. Why shouldn't they? They deserve it. It's Christmas.

Their Christmas.

The best day I ever had was the day Ianto found me and brought me here, to my home. Jack, Tosh, Gwen and yes, even Owen, are my family too.

I'm treated so well I've lost perspective.

Well, what do you expect, I am a Pteranodon after all. They always find the time to release me for flight, play with me in the rafters, get me in out of the heat and cold, cuddle up with me before bedtime … well Ianto does … and even celebrate my pretend birthday.

Today is for them and not for me.

The least I can do is to let them enjoy it without me getting in the way. But if this continues tomorrow there'll be hell to pay!

Who am I kidding, it'll never happen.

It's been a long day. I think I'm going to go lie down now and take a nap. And To All a Good Night!

.

.

.

.

Myfanwy slides gracefully up through the rafters and into her nest where she finds that she was not forgotten after all.

The turkeys are not only cool enough to eat but neatly cut into chewable sizes.

The nest has fresh blankets and she sits with relief that she didn't go off on one after all.

Bess the wee chicks.

They hadn't forgotten after all.

Well.

Ianto, anyway.

Her personal favourite.

Lovely boy.

So there it is.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Feliz Navidad.


End file.
